’ 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. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. " Thames complied. I know how bad it feels.
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