\" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. \"You know what I like about guys, certain guys?\" Lucy looked in her direction again. ” The strain in her face was visible as she tried to remember. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. Above all, beware of Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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