He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. That is easy. A quarter of an hour passed.
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