She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. You are taking it for granted that I am ‘Alcide. ’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off. Sindlesham tried. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. ‘I have justice. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands.
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