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“I wouldn’t want you on my tail, captain. I doubt you give up easily.”
Franck shrugged off her comment with his best attempt at becoming modesty.
“Yes, but you’re a fleet-footed hind. You’d soon outpace me. So where do you go to practice?”
“The Paul Gauguin gym. First on the left here. Rue Milton.”
It had to be a municipal facility – a private gym would have had a snappier name.