276 He opened the box. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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