" The tone was neutral. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. \"So John, are you two lovebirds going to the Junior Prom or what?\" He paused, smirking. “I may as well come up by this train.
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