’ ‘Precisely. It was open. Hastening to the church, he entered it by the very door near which his first crime had been committed. Like stealing. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. ’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade.
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