Jonathan laughed scornfully. Anna raised her eyes. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. ’ ‘As if you could stop her. You are necessary to me.
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