\" She waved. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. “Very well,” he said. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. Lucy was silent. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites.
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