‘Fiddle, Gerald. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. ’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. " "In what way, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, in astonishment.
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