Hollo rumbled in his throat. ‘You can’t prove nothing. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. In another instant, the collision took place. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering.
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