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. . She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. Winifred's face had a thoroughly amiable look. " Mr.
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