“You’re. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. “What the hell is going on here, Officer?” He grumbled. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope.
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