“Cheveney!” she repeated. Wild. “Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass.
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