Charcoal. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. The lady, who was indeed stunning, Gerald suddenly realised, said never a word. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. They were the same. He continued thoughtfully. Both of them would be committing novel and unforgettable acts.
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