The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness.
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