It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. Ah Cum was more or less familiar with alcoholic types.
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