‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains. Here it is. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. Ennison. “Boys!” said Capes.
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