Not for me. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. “Have you ever been to the opera, Ann Veronica?” said Ramage. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. It's a long time since we met, eight years and more.
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