“You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story.
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