She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. An ancient smile lay on his lips. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. There was a case, or something, some years ago. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably.
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