Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. This also struck her as odd. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it.
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