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There were paintings on the walls—the kind she had once seen on a school field trip to the Met French Impressionists from what century she couldn’t quite recall The Revisited Period that had co in the early twenty-first century coloriously muted colors

No hologra sculpture Just paint and canvas

“May I take your coat?”

She brought herself back and thought she caught a flicker of sed out of her jacket, watched hierly between his ers

Hell, she’d gotten most of the blood off it

“This way, Lieutenant Dallas If you wouldn’tin the parlor, Roarke is detained on a transpacific call”

“No problem”

Thesedately A fire out of genuine logs in a hearth carved froht like colored gems The twin sofas had curved backs and lush upholstery that echoed the jewel tones of the room in sapphire The furniture ood, polished to an aled Sculptures, bowls, faceted glass

Her boots clicked over wood, then muffled over carpet

“Would you like a refreshment, lieutenant?”

She glanced back, saith aers like a soiled rag “Sure What have you got, Mr—?”

“Summerset, lieutenant Simply Summerset, and I’m sure we can provide you hatever suits your taste”

“She’s fond of coffee,” Roarke said from the doorway, “but I think she’d like to try the Montcart forty-nine”

Suht “The forty-nine, sir?”

“That’s right Thank you, Summerset”