I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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