Suddenly he understood what had happened. The piece, in three movements, was short enough anyway. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here.
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