She gently placed the car back upon the ground. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. ‘Say it. That is so like you, Diana—Pallas Athene! (Pallas Athene is better. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. He never finished his sentence. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force.
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