‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words. Finally Lucy replied. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. ’ She struck her hands together. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage.
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