It seems Valade visited him that day to present his credentials, and Charvill posted straight off to inform his great-uncle. She heard them diving after her, and noted their starting eyes as they spied the opened panel. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate.
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