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And a chance to observe him for a moment. A chance, however flimsy, to gather herself and her exposed nerves. He was standing facing away from her, talking to someone, so hadn’t noted her arrival and she was glad of the respite. Impossible to miss him he would draw the eye of anyone with a pulse. Taking a deep breath, she didn’t move aside, much as she wanted to, but pushed the revolving door and stepped into the warm foyer. The cold wind whistled around her exposed legs but couldn’t shock her out of the stupor that seemed to have taken control of her body.Ī couple clambered out of a cab on the street just behind her and, in a flurry of doormen, luggage and broken German on the cuttingly cold breeze, she knew she had to move into the lobby just behind the glass or move aside and let them pass. Her head ached where pins held the thick mass of curls on top of her head and, with a visibly trembling hand, she pulled the too short mac more tightly around her body. Her heart was in her mouth, legs shaking, hands clammy and a trickle of sweat ran down her back. MAGGIE HOLLAND stood just on the other side of the revolving door, the late November darkness throwing the glittering lights of the exclusive London hotel into sharp relief.
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