’ ‘Yes, that is what he said,’ agreed Melusine, pleased to find him of so ready an understanding. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. “Absolutely platonically,” she said. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street.
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