” “How delightful!” exclaimed Anna. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight.
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