And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. But Jack was too nimble for him. ‘I told you I could handle her. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. She reached for the door handle. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley.
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