‘That’s better. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes.
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