"You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate. " "I'm afraid I don't understand. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. Sheppard, attend to what I'm about to say to you. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. “Yes, John. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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