Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. She was chaffing him about being taken for Meysey Hill, and suggested that he should be presented to me as the millionaire. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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