She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. Things you would laugh at. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free.
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