In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. " "What is it?" asked Thames.
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