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Twenty-one, twenty-two. Mike was already on dishwasher duty when John rang the doorbell. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Bah. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge.
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