He turned away from the group and went quickly down the road and on into the woods. A voice called Bradley behind him, but he paid it no heed. He began to move faster and faster until he was almost running full-tilt through the trees,...

Part I London, 1982 Like a dog come running at his master’s whistle, I RSVP’d yes on an invitation to Vernon Copeland’s Halloween party to view his latest acquisition. A lost piece of cinema from the early ’20s, a screen test hitherto undiscovered, et cetera, et cetera....

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