Wood. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. "Does your father doubt it? Speak! tell me!" Winifred made no answer. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper.
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