Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. I don’t love you. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it.
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