She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. No mercenary consideration influences me. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham. Her efforts were vain. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. Miss Charvill. ’ At last.
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