“Let’s go. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. The noise was raucous. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded.
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