Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. How the devil did you break a picture?’ ‘Don’t be obtuse, Hilary. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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