Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. She hoped desperately that Mrs. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. Dinner consisted of three courses. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. Her confession was still unmade.
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