" The Wastrel laughed. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. Some doting parent had taught him well. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it.
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