He dropped the key on the counterpane. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. She had even tried a needle and a catheter on a victim once, but had found that the process was so frustrating and slow that she barely gained any sustenance and had done the worst thing imaginable: wasted a kill. In the struggle her cap fell off. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. I feel like a fraudulent trustee.
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