It was a purse. She would end alone. ” “Then he—and Paris—lied,” Ennison answered. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. I'm ready to bear it all. ’ Still the girl said nothing. “No, I’d like to. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one.
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