Does it?” “I think it does. Remember?’ ‘Parbleu,’ came from his still struggling victim. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb.
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