Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. “I am sick of it. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. But she must stop him getting away. Get it off your soul. Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch.
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