But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. My foster mother, Sheila, insists that I go to St. “How did you find me?” She asked. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them.
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