He had both the instruction letter and mailbox key in his trouser pocket and the blue enve­lope inside his jacket pocket. He hadn’t read so many Graham Greene novels for nothing.

As he boarded the plane with the other first-class passengers, he noticed, far in front of him, a tall woman with pale, wound blonde hair, smiling and alive. Well, Philip hadn’t seen North By Northwest for nothing.

THE COURIER BY WILLIAM MASTERS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 37

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