She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. . ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. She answered slowly. This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to a stile. " Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. I’ve bored you or something. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. ‘That is very sensible, mon capitaine.
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