
The young man dying in the road who hadn't been run over...
The letter that said: 'Forget about the Seven Dials business. I thought it was a joke. But it isn't.'
White flowers arranged on the coverlet, reflecting the whiteness of a dead young face....
Seven clocks ticking in the mantlepiece - ticking loudly, ominously...
Number seven raising his hand very slowly to his head, fumbling with the fastening of the mask...
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