Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. Fast. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. ” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor.
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