"And the next time Captain Darrell wants a witness, I promise you he shan't look for one in vain. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. He held in his hands many threads. Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. He thought it best to let the matter drop. It was enough. He embraced her like her father once had. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. “I was frightened then,” she declared. Look at the poor victim at your feet.
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