’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. “I found not one but two photos when I researched the death of the McCloskeys. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. The pistol, it was not loaded.
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