Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. \"Michelle's here with a rather large cadre of friends.
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