The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. So Mrs. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy.
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