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Chapter 11

 

 

Jeremy Baden-Flogg sat with two other men at a dining table in a club on London's Pall Mall. The magnificent palazzo architecture was designed to dazzle, to give the diners the fullest sense of their grandeur. The men with Baden could have been any faceless men in suits to the other diners, whose eyes were always drawn to more recognisable ones like his. Here, in any case, the room was full of such faces: politicians, civil servants, actors, writers, TV news reporters, and other media types, along with old men who had money and did not want to go home. Baden picked up one of the lamb cutlets by the little paper wrapper placed there to prevent grease getting on his fingers. As he chomped away one of his guests began talking about his investments.

'I've already made a killing betting against the pound, just think what we will do if we flog the whole ship!' Their lips greasy with fat but their finger-tips dry, they ate the lamb and drank red burgundy. They chatted and g
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