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’ Hilary eyed him. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. ‘Imbecile. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused.
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