A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. ’ ‘And you do not know me. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him.
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