"I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. Jolly nice girl, too. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this.
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