Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. Michelle seemed so innocent and sweet. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. I had that coming. "And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth.
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