A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. A day will come when you will thank me. ’ ‘They? How many are there?’ ‘Oh, peste. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. She had killed the McCloskeys after they had witnessed her making a kill.
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