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“You must provide me with information.”
“About what?”
“Galerie Georges Fleury. It’s on the rue—”
“I know where it is, Monsieur Allon.”
“Are you in business with him?”
“Georges Fleury? Never. But I did foolishly agree to steal a painting from him once.”
“What was it?”
“It was,” said Durand, his expression darkening, “a disaster.”
