“This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. “How did you find me?” He asked. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is.
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