‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city.
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