“Will you come in, Sir John. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man demanded his business. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. But we're neglecting the punch all this time. ] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC.
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