Michelle smiled. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. ‘I live in Kent. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them.
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