She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. "I feel like work," he lied. " "Prolonging the misery. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. ‘So it would appear. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it.
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