She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence.
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