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“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. He had not to wait long. His hot juices coursed into her in quick bursts. Whilst she was wondering how to frame her request for an advance, Mr. . It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes.
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