’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat.
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