Day before, send round to each to borrow a shirt. “What can you do?” she asked. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey.
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