Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. “I don’t think you realize,” Ann Veronica began again, “that I am rather a defective human being. ‘You will keep yourself utterly quiet,’ he instructed, a growl in her ear as they headed for the door.
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