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Wood uttered something like an imprecation. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. I should like to have had you forgive me. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. Do you expect me, I wonder. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.

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