She could not say who, not yet. He guided her hand to his crotch, which had already grown in size. “I have the right to be here. Just as he was preparing to follow, the wherry containing Rowland and his men, which had drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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