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He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. Fast and Loose. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. At any cost! Her brothers had it practically—at least they had it far more than it seemed likely she would unless she exerted herself with quite exceptional vigor. At last the panel swung back into the library. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way.
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