‘Grace à vous, I am compelled to rescue myself. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. "Jack!" exclaimed Thames. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before.
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