" As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. Better get a dress. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened—Shotbolt's note having been received just before. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. The servants had left the room. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. Deny me, if you please. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. And, turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppard's glance fixed meaningly upon him. " So saying, he closed the lantern. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. ” Chapter II THE ADVENTURE OF ANNABEL The man spoke mercilessly, incisively, as a surgeon.
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