"Do you mean to tell me he's come and gone in an hour? What the devil kind of a father is he?" Spurlock shook his head. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. “Go to London,” said Ann Veronica. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips.
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