Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. ’ ‘Think Valade will come back here then?’ ‘Melusine thinks so,’ Gerald said, pausing at the top of the stairs. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. She could not help but swoon a little.
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