Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. “Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something. “Which one?” “The Miss Pellissier in whose rooms you were, and who sings at the ‘Unusual,’” Courtlaw answered.
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