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He cannot. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. “You were going to answer it?” “Certainly not!” she said deliberately. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks.
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