‘She won’t. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. Wood started to his feet. I know faces. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God.
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