When I learned you were married, I changed my plans. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable.
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