Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. Such pretty manners, she thought. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. "For me—his master, Mr.
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