Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. You're easy to please. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Milice,’ Gerald translated. But an individual she never laid eyes on day before yesterday! And the minute he gets up, he'll head for the public bar. In a sense it alters nothing. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. “That’s what we narcs have to do.
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