Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. “I found not one but two photos when I researched the death of the McCloskeys. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone. You were only one room removed from the library, see. But he tells them that I am a spy. “Until a girl can go away as a son does and earn her independent income, she’s still on a string. That would be him.
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