“I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. She cursed Satan and screamed at the heavens, praying to Mary frantically. Well, it had to happen somewhen. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. And in this fact lay his danger. " "I fancied I heard voices," rejoined Sir Rowland. Vee’s all right.
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