He raised her to a sitting position. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. " "Then I wish you good night. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. ’ Gerald was relieved to hear the loud guffaw issuing from the old man’s lips. ” Ennison turned round sharply. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected.
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