Humph. ‘As I said, a mistake. ” Annabel laughed gaily. He knew that he could translate literally. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. . Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. ‘Now then, girl. . . Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection.
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