She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. Then Mike came along. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. . . ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood.
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