She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. Wow. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself.
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