The foyer was a white marble, and the space was two stories high. More than once she had performed depraved acts on that floor, and knew it was a cold...and unforgiving surface. There was, as expected, a note left on a small table to one side. It had her instructions for the day. This was June or July, I forget specifically. England was in the midst of a heat wave so it wasn't a surprise that she was to head out to the garden. Next to the note was a white evening dress, shoes, underwear and a. The forge workers and apprentices listened, as much as is possible when hammers are regularly striking iron. Ferry and I bonded a little over our mutual survivor guilt; the memories of the dead were fresh and raw in our minds. Ferry wasn't married but that flash of mortality, at the bridge had changed him. My bodyguard now spoke of a certain woman that he favored. His confidence was no longer whole and an occasional hollow look in his eyes told me when he was reliving the pain of that day.Some. More

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