‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them.
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