Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man.
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