The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. She saw a pole-chair; that would be this Mr. “So should you. He knew me, Nigel. Only a few, but enough for me to understand that some act had driven you to this part of the world, where the hunted hide.
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