Part 3, Chapter 12

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌‌‌⁠There was no help for it, Philip has since told me. He simply had to tell her everything. She was, in fact, in possession of the whole story long before any of the rest of us.

But even she had to wait yet a little longer. When, at half-past nine that Monday night her taxi drew up at the wrought-iron gate in Lennox Street, Philip was out and the place was in darkness. She had no key.

"Go on to Oakley