The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. She said that she couldn’t stand Mike.
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