Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. It won’t even know whether to be scandalized at us or forgiving. Do you indeed remember? The smell of decay and cheap methylated spirit!. " Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which, luckily for the individual against whom it was aimed, flashed in the pan.
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