There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was open country. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. ’ He screamed at me through the rope and tape, it was no use. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name.
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