He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. “I hope that Mr. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. His tone was kind and sympathetic. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. Then blackness. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat.
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