That window there…. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. Parbleu, but I will certainly kill him this time. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. He resolved to judge for himself. He lowered himself on to her.
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