Hogarth," replied Gay. " "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging.
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