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Then there was also the horse. “We are Mr. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. Thames Street was wholly impassable. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. Sheppard, distractedly.

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