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’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. “I am sick of it. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. But, what brought you here?" "Excuse me, Sir Rowland.
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