’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. I can’t forget about your sister. Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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