"My sight is failing me. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. Ramage?” he asked. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Mike was in his blue jeans and a tee-shirt, and Lucy, knowing that Mrs.
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