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Meant to doe below But while Three Pines survived the recessions, the depressions, the wars, this turreted eyesore fell into disrepair, attracting only sorrow

Instead of a trophy, when villagers looked up what they saas a shadow, a sigh on the hill

But no longer Noas an elegant and gleales, in a certain light Gamache could still see the sorrow in the place And just at dusk, in the breeze, he thought he could hear the sigh

In Gauests Clara and Peter had invited fro theuest at all, but soave a start He tried not to show it, but this old hoave Beauvoir a chill

Dominique Gilbert appeared around the side of the inn She earing jodhpurs and a black velvet riding hat In her hand she carried a leather crop She was about to either go for a ride, or direct a Mack Sennett short

She snized them, and put out her hand

"Chief Inspector" She shook his hand then turned to Beauvoir and shook his Then her sarden?"

She removed her hat to shon hair flattened to her skull by perspiration Dominique Gilbert was in her late forties, tall and slender A refugee, along with her husband, Marc, from the city They’d made their bundle and escaped

Her fellow executives at the bank had predicted they wouldn’t last a winter But they were now into their second year and showed no sign of regretting their decision to buy the old wreck and turn it into an inviting inn and spa

"It’s true, I’m afraid," said Gamache

"May I use your phone?" Inspector Beauvoir asked Despite knowing perfectly well it wouldn’t work, he’d been trying to call the forensics teaoing back to the dark ages here"

"Help yourself" Dominique pointed into the house "You don’t even have to wind it up anymore"

But her hu re-dial on his cell

"I hear soht?" said Ga on the verandah

"A few Some booked, some were last minute"