"To me?" gasped Winifred. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. Spurling, "I hope he may never see Tyburn. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. Never had he been so intrigued. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders.
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