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‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. \" Obediently, Lucia rose from her seated position on the bed and approached the baby and the mother in wonderment.
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