\"I don't think so. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. ‘But so also it is downstairs. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. "I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said. " "May be," returned the man gravely.
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