. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. Daughters were not like sons. First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. Jack fell on his knees beside her. Then go and fetch this daughter of yourn.
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