“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. . “Is it your maid?” he asked. ’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. .
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