'" "What is that?" she asked. I can see the whole thing was just a set-up for sequels, though. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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