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“What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. Ennison spoke at last. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. It was eleven o'clock. His safety must be looked to. ” “Then, whoever he may be, he is not Meysey Hill,” Courtlaw said. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast.
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