Occasionally he relit his pipe. ” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. We don’t consider each other; we needn’t. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again.
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