" "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me. He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely.
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