‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. “Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you.
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