She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. ‘Major Alderley, ma’am, and General Lord Charvill. His car, a black Alfa Romeo, waited at the end of the subdivision. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. "This is strange," said Jack, under his breath. The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. "I see him!—row for your life!" "That's the way to miss him, master," replied Ben coolly. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. The Chinamen raised the limp body and carried it to the hall staircase, up which they mounted laboriously. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular.
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