“I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. "Your detective has been remiss in his duty; let him suffer for it. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved. I would that you were my own.
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