This was in Tennessee. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. . ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. ‘Bête. ‘But you said she was looking for proof. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. Gianfrancesco never suspected that I had my own reasons for wanting you for my wife.
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