Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. “These are for you. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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