She was furiously angry. ” Courtlaw laughed hardly. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. 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. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. Sheppard, smiling through her tears. Not at all.
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