“The abbess of Cranborne was the best known and the likeliest for a visitor to patronize. Her title derived from her establishment on Cranborne Road opposite the Winter Gardens. It was convenient to the Maze, the West Cliff, and both major roads entering the city. Lord Thomas was a notable womanizer, and as the hotels had turned up no clue, Guy hoped the abbess might be able to help him. The abbess, known as Maggie to her intimes, cast a discerning eye over Mr. Delamar and invited him into her p...rivate office. “What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?” she inquired. Her gentlemen came in two varieties: Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. Abbesses, it seemed to Guy, came in only one form: aging, crafty females of faded beauty. They were usually superannuated lightskirts clever enough to have realized the profit in running an establishment instead of working in one. This one was a dark-eyed brunette nearly as stout as Lady Lynne. On her person she wore a fortune in ugly jewelry and a gown of crimson silk, in the middle of the afternoon.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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