“I don’t want you to do it, to go on talking to me. The light disappeared. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. Undraw the curtain, love," she added to Thames, "that I may look at you. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified.
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