A deadlock. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. ” He got up and went to the guest room door and locked it. . But I had to know for sure. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen.
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