She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. " Finding it useless to struggle further, Mr. I’m a female thing at bottom. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. "After him," cried Wild; "he mustn't escape. "And I," muttered Jack. ” “THE BUCKNALL MANSIONS MYSTERY.
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