Little more’n a week. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. Gerald frowned. He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper. Let him be sure. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door.
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