“Pretend,” he said, “that all I have said hasn’t been said. “Now you look happy. ” They were eating quails when they returned to the topic of love. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. It was no use. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. “Eight, Cavendish Square. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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