He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. Hill, Meysey Hill. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. ” She paused. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. A door slammed.
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