’ 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. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. But when she saw the car, her body filled with dread, for it gave her a bad feeling.
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