’ The lady’s face came round, a puzzled frown on her brow. Diane Vorsack tried to disguise the fact that she was livid, her daughter’s buffoonery having driven off the prestigious dinner guests before the after-dinner drinks could be served. He stopped abruptly. The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants.
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