The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. Michelle’s eyes opened, her body paralyzed. “Okay. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. They seldom arrive on the beach. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise.
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