Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. I was engaged to dine with your sister and her husband, and I sent a wire. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine.
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