The commissionaire smiled. " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence.
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