” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. “Read this, John. Thank goodness you’ll understand. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. ‘But so also it is downstairs. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. I’m not a lovesick boy. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. Now, I'll be getting along.
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