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‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene.
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