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He seemed to be thinking hard. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. “I expect it is pretty well in shreds by now. ” “Of course I am. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed.
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