She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. There was a huge desk of heavily carved ebony at one end, and at the centre, a couple of straight-backed chairs stood before a great fireplace at the outer wall, flanked by two bookshelves with casement windows above. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. You know—if you want freedom. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked.
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