‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. “He is addressing a meeting of his constituents somewhere,” Annabel answered. Spurling, who sat on the right of the table. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul.
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