“Did you tell him?” Capes smiled faintly. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in.
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