” The conversation hung for a moment. Petite build, like herself. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. “These are the sort of things that aren’t supposed to happen. " "What? Good Lord, he's alive with fleas! They'll be all over the place. ” To her relief, Trodger sent one of his men posthaste to London with this missive, while the other went to fetch the horse, having been given precise directions on how to negotiate the passage so that he might find it at the other end.
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