‘Eh bien. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. He may die.
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