‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. “It’s precious unromantic.
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