“He had finally drunk his second drink and then a third and a fourth. He was in no way drunk but he gave off the sense of a man who normally had one drink, maybe two when politesse required it, a man who prized control and had been pushed in a single week almost beyond it. He had found Marin Bogart in an empty room in Buffalo. He had buried Warren Bogart in an empty grave in New Orleans. He had come to save Charlotte from an empty revolution in Boca Grande and Charlotte was not listening.”

— Grace

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Photos are intended to represent approximate ages and physical types only.

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