Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. He listened. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. “You delicate female!” “Who cares,” said Ann Veronica, “seeing it’s you? Warm, soft little wonders! Of course I want them. ‘Kill him? Oh. She could not help herself. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. "I cannot do it.
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