‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious. I told you no good would come of it. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again. Lights were on and Michelle’s mother was up, occasionally pacing as Michelle and Lucy had been gone for over two hours.
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