lt;pgt;American pros

Martin sat on the sofa, dust dancing in the air made his nose itch, a sneeze about to erupt was thwarted by something hard poking his bottom.,Martin was just about to ask a question, then he remembered that this house belonged to James Carter. "Your uncle died eight years ago," he said, "from eating the wrong flour.","I'm now certain, you didn't get knocked silly." Elena wasn't even concerned, she pointed to the small copse of trees behind the house: "James is buried there."。