She felt the thrill race through her body. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. "The key," replied the widow.
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