"How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. “I have just ordered a carriage for her. Gerald frowned. The late afternoon, en effet. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’.
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