“All right, Dunster,” he said. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. No lights were flashing, and a single squad car was not a cause for alert, as sometimes the Becks allowed squads to use their drive to watch for speeders and other reckless drivers.
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