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The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen.
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