She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. "Yes. Once more he was the searcher. You know, Melusine. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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