Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. ‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’ ‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. “Guess who I’m going out with?” Michelle asked her one day at lunch. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Montague Hill.
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