“A dreary English bore, straight off Brighton pier.‘A man in courier section,’ he said. ‘He was with them in the war. He was rather good.’‘That’s what you always say. They’re all good. How did he die, then? How did he die?’ She had sat up in bed.‘Leclerc’s waiting to hear.’ He wished she wouldn’t watch him while he dressed.‘And he wants you to help him wait?’‘He wants me to go to the office. He wants me. You don’t expect me to turn over and go back to sleep, do you?’‘I was only asking,’ Sarah sa...id. ‘You’re always so considerate to Leclerc.’‘Taylor was an old hand. Leclerc’s very worried.’ He could still hear the triumph in Leclerc’s voice: ‘Come at once, get a taxi; we’ll go through the files again.’‘Does this often happen? Do people often die?’ There was indignation in her voice, as if no one ever told her anything; as if she alone thought it dreadful that Taylor had died.‘You’re not to tell anyone,’ said Avery. It was a way of keeping her from him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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