The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. In another instant, the collision took place.
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