It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. He had done his best, pitching with determined fury that resulted in two outs. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. Jackson. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be.
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