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She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat.
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