\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. He was tender with her as he had not been in years. Alone; not even the dog to warn her, and Hoddy deep in the island somewhere. She asked no further questions for the moment. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. He savored the last solo, the coda. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. She was practically destitute of jewellery.
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