You dear, dear girl. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Detention would mean coming home late, which spelled distraction and trouble on the night of a kill.
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