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Only you, my beloved? Whoever murdered colonel protheroe came through the front door. I could sense his agitation, knew he was feeling as off-center as i was. Unless she went as one of those mannequins, all dressed up and sidling about. Although he acted weird when i asked. Francis lay face downward behind the sofa, while gallant st. Oliver took a key from a pocket concealed amongst her purple folds and unlocked the door.
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