“You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. A curious silence ensued. His vicious abusiveness vanished. Cathy Beck was outraged. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her.
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