They had been informally introduced during floor hockey, when Katy had sent a puck flying into Lucy’s face. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly.
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