Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. “It’s—private. " Trenchard took up a pen.
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