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Chapter 18 THE MENTAL TRAP
It was a beautiful night, warm and starlit, the waning moon had just begun to rise in the east and as he turned into the green Park a breath of tepid wind, grass-scented and balmy blew in his face.
He walked in the direction of Buckingham Palace.
Where was he to go? He had no ideas, no plans.
He had failed in performing the Duty that Fate
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