“You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. But they found him on the veranda when they returned from McClintock's that evening. ’ A twinkle crept into Mrs Sindlesham’s eye.
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