''He won't. They parked near a gate; it had a crude notice nailed toit, covered in polythene, which said, 'Save Bartles Wood'. ''Think we're going to get that account?' said AubreyCotterill casually. Louise andDickon had gone and he looked up from the mug of coffeeshe had just made him, smiled at her across the kitchen.
'Is there anything wrong with that?Now?''Wrong? Oh, no. But I'd rather you didn't go until then,Sharon. And readit. 'It's acostly business.
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