‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. ‘I don’t want a list of all the nuns resident in your wretched convent. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir.
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