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He’s a salesman for AT and T, but he’s never made a lot of money. She twisted her fingers tightly. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. “It’s not. He paced faster, stomping around. But he only went home again to Paddington. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. . A black-garbed young lad leapt out and let down the steps. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London.
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