" "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. “You could have told me about it, Michelle. Sheppard. “Delicious!” she murmured.
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