‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. It is a true saying that in the mountains there is peace. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. “You vixen!” said Mr.
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