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Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. “Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. When he tried the scullery door, and would have moved on, Hilary intervened.
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