And he had destroyed all this. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. ” She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. Caution forced her to speak calmly. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. I almost wish we hadn't come. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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