His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. Only a book detective could dope this out. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Madame shrugged. I could not become an Oracle. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. “I really owe him something of an apology. He thought it best to let the matter drop. The G. .
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