He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. I get my driver's license tomorrow. Not that there had ever been any hope of that.
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