‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. . Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. Wood fancied he recognised. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. ” “Well!” “He greeted me effusively. “Some day,” she answered. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business.
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