‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. "I'll need a job when I quit this bed. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke.
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