By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. ’ ‘Believe me, she wouldn’t have cared. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. The stranger turned his head at the sound. ” He handed her the phone reluctantly, barely masking his mild disgust.
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