” “Well, perhaps it is a bit depressing. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. It’s not far from twilight. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade.
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