" "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. And you have to thank her presence, hot-headed boy, that I do not chastise your insolence as it deserves.
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