He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read the agreement through to her. Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. “Never heard anything of it. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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