“The frost feathered the railings and softened the trees with a fur of brilliant white. The sweet smell of roasting chestnuts issued from trolleys parked on the pavement. A chill wind whipped round the grey flanks of buildings and iced the walls of the canal. All the iron that made up the city’s bones, the cables that glittered in the sharp air, the girders that screeched and shivered, the tramlines, lamps, bridges and railway elevations, was frozen to the touch. And still Clara could not sh...ake off the sensation that she was being followed. The feeling had been there from the moment that Archie Dyson had issued his warning. Dyson’s advice had been to lie low, uttered as mildly as a bank manager cautioning against extending an overdraft. But lying low had changed nothing. In the following days the feeling had only intensified. Someone was on her tail and she was sure of it. The next afternoon, after a costume fitting for the new film – all girlish gingham dresses, dirndls and aprons – Clara decided to find out.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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