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Summary
“So this is Wrayton Harcourt,” Guy said, looking about the room. He was trying to take in the lovely windows and a quite extraordinary painting of a group - a murder - a Murder - of crows, two in coronets with the third holding a pencil. The largest bed he’d ever seen continued to distract him, though, nearly as much as the other man in the room.
“Well, this is a bedroom in Wrayton Harcourt,” Philip said, coming up close behind him.
