Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. ‘Playing games to tease me, that’s all he can think of doing. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. . \" He mumbled, his eyes on her breasts. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later.
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