‘Say then, Jacques, you have followed him?’ she demanded of the blackgarbed footman. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. Don’t ask me how. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets.
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