That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. ’ He nodded. She caught her finger in the lock and had to ask him to help pry it out. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances.
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