Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. Wood, in indignant surprise. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. “The Beck family has the cooking gene. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz.
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