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“I am only sorry that I did not ask you to go with me. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. After all, you failed in obtaining the secret from her, Sir Rowland. Since then he has persistently annoyed me. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. He filled her glass with champagne. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books.
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