’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. She struggled fiercely not to give way. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. A man came out, and walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. From your pocket there.
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