Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. " "Quite right, Sir James," said Austin. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. Nicholas is dead. “What would you like to hear? Some J. . " "Very right, my love," said Wood, "very sensibly remarked. “No, don’t interrupt me.
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