"I am sorry. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. The air was crisp and dry. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator.
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