Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Just sit down on that stool again and let’s talk of this in cold blood. White, my landlady, believes his story. ‘Yes, tell us everything at once,’ instructed Lucilla, pushing him towards the sofa she had vacated, and obliging him to sit beside her. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars.
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