We can be friends again. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. Hope reared. He spoke English with astonishing facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host.
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