“I don’t see why not,” he answered. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape.
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