He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. A sinister thought edged in. “I do not understand. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat.
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