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All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. Too late now. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. She was reasonably certain why. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask.
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