Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath.
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