She regarded the young man coldly. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. “I am sorry that I have murdered you. My house is the next door to the Cooper's Arms, in the Old Bailey, opposite Newgate. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet.
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