My Husband Gave My Airplane Seat to His Secretary, Then Thirteen Original Patent Files Stopped Him Cold
The house was perfectly quiet.
I walked down the main hallway toward the library.
The heavy oak doors were open.
Robert sat in his leather armchair near the unlit fireplace.
He held a crystal glass in his right hand.
He was swirling the ice in his glass without drinking.
“Daniel called me from the road,” Robert said.
His voice stayed at a low murmur.
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