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Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. "If any one's to blame, it's me. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. ” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A.
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