He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. ” Sir John turned towards the door. ” Lucy replied sadly. ” She pointed with shaking fingers to a great bunch of dark red carnations, thrust carelessly into a deep china bowl, to which the card was still attached. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay.
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