” He reeled out of the room. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. Wood fared still worse. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. She is the wife now of another man. ” They passed out on to the pavement, and the commissionaire called a hansom.
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