" "Very well, sir. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. “No. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. “Number 13, please, cabman. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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