“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper.
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