\" He said. She wrapped a leg around him. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. “A modern girl does understand these terms. A robbery has been committed, and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to the offence. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. ’ The girl held out her hands.
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