165 “Uh, my parents are going skiing in Colorado after New Year’s. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. " "Then, most probably, it was the widow Sheppard," answered Blueskin, sulkily. “The man is dangerous. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. He was speechless. Got detained in the City, and——” Then he met the fixed, breathless gaze of those wonderful eyes from the other side of the table, and he, too, broke off in the middle of his sentence. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. There would be no mercy in this man. ” There came a silence again.
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