Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. “The aces made it easy. She felt herself shaking again. We were to ransom you, then we would fake your death, play as if the kidnappers had executed you. And an Englishman, which is my right of birth. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out.
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