. She was too late. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. A town called Foster. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. Her back arched and she felt herself instinctively sinking into him.
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