The house burned an hour before midnight on the last day of April. The wild, distant ringing of the fire bells woke George Hazard. He stumbled through the dark hallway, then upstairs to the mansion tower, and stepped outside into the narrow balcony.
“Not that being so mature is a bad thing, but there are times to be mature and there are times to be loose.”
“True friends: only a few have 'em, but only a few will admit that they don't.”