’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. It slipped out—as did that “she”. 13 Montague Street. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. Wild's.
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