Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. "I am very wicked," she said. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. “Yes. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. You will find the proof in McClintock's safe. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked.
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