He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. “Yes, John. ‘You don’t know him. .
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