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‘What?’ ‘Nothing,’ snapped Roding, with an odd look at his bride to be that Gerald could not interpret. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. ‘You and Jarvis Remenham both, yes. Come and have lunch with me. One cannot expect that soldiers can be sympathique to one they believe may be a French spy.
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