She refused to eat. Gerald closed the door and released Melusine, and then went to open the shutters on a window that faced the side of the house. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. Thames Darrell MUST die. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom.
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