She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. Not even, it seemed, this interfering monsieur le major.
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