“Eight, Cavendish Square. ’ The lady’s gaze dwelled thoughtfully on the half-drawn sword and then came up to meet his, an odd look in her eyes. ’ I said. The stores, the drying bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite landlocked lagoon. ’ ‘So that was it. Old London Bridge. You must tell me what it all means. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside.
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