It was easy enough to lie to anyone else. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. “What can you do?” she asked. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. Jackson’s. If Ray left the house, it would be easy.
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