After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. If he had eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not.
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