“Eight, Cavendish Square. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him.
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