And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. ” John gestured. ‘He don’t mean you no harm.
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