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A smile illuminated his features as though he were genuinely pleased to see Pitt. Are you sure you are not mistaken. There really was nothing else to pursue. Inside, the lamps have been extinguished and the big stove squats dormant in the corner, unattended by the usual constellation of miners jawboning over coffee and tobacco. He calls for the owner as he crosses the board floor, moving between shelves, past stacked crates and burlap sacks bulging with sugar and flour. He blinked and his voice dropped and became suddenly very gentle. Greengage was one of her favorites. He was sure guilt must be written in his face at the thought of probing the grief of this man who so obviously liked and trusted him, and had not the remotest suspicion that Pitt was here not in friendship but in pursuit of his job. I am afraid the raspberry is all gone.
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