He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. It was a society column about the richest men in the world and their lavish parties. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. ” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered.
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