CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. ’ He heard Roding snort, and suppressed a grin as he bowed, taking the trouble to salute Madame’s hand and cast her a provocative look as he did so. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. ” “In the present case,” Drummond remarked, glancing across the room, “Cheveney wouldn’t permit it.
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