“That’s why I said it. “Eldred,” Reynolds said, and then: “Sai Rimer. “But only to the first mailbox—Mrs. “I don’t know.
”He nodded without speaking and held out his hand. She sat in Rimer’s high-ceilinged, book-lined study—behind Rimer’s ironwood desk, in Rimer’s upholstered chair, looking as out of place as a whore’s bloomers on a church altar. I felt I had been made to do those things. “I cry your pardon, Susannah, but I cannot.
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