It was bare of any furnishings. Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. His fingers closed upon her hand. They then clambered over a hedge, and scaling another wall, got into the garden at the back of the house. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. She opened it and imbibed. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things.
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