’ The lashes fluttered demurely. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. Mrs. The woman shrugged her shoulders. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided.
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