’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. It was difficult to get right. “Very well,” said her father. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. Make no promises on a night where I have burdened you with such awful knowledge.
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