Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. Annabel had been here then. ’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. ‘There you have soldiers. “I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury.
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