Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. She had but to choose. She would have to leave very soon. Guns were impossible. ” Brendon rushed to the piano and strummed out a tune. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. But I have never seen America. It was hard to meet that gaze.
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