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‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking.
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