“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. ‘Sir?’ Hilary threw a brief glance at Trodger, and quickly returned his intent gaze to the Frenchman, who had halted once more, and stood as if thinking deeply. She held out the foil. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me.
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