Who were you looking for tonight? One of the émigrés? There were several in there. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. . She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction.
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