I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. ’ 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. What do you know about her, Fred? I am interested.
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