. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. His mind seemed to be a remarkably full one; his knowledge of detailed reality came in just where her own mind was most weakly equipped. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. She laughed. There's not his peer among the peerage.
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