” “Hampstead didn’t suit Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison remarked. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. Come and have lunch with me. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip.
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