‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ‘But I have told you. She had other boyfriends and hung out at Foster’s only bar most of the time. Bon. She looked around her. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes.
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