” “YOU know,” said Ann Veronica. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. So, let's think no more about it. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand. She almost sprang to her feet. He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb.
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