‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion.
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