Gosse backed, not even attempting to parry so unorthodox a use of the foil. Stanley,’ I said. ” His face darkened. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight.
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