“And let us have a talk about this—some other time. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Never any doubt of it. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. " "There's no hurry. Sheppard.
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