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David Courtlaw. Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. "There is Dollis Hill," said the man, pointing to a well-wooded eminence about a mile distant, "and there," he added, indicating the roof of a house just visible above a grove of trees "is Mr. And I want him out of uniform. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner room.
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