‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. His name was Peter. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. The other was helping Trodger with his operation upstairs. Half a day had turned the corner of the hours; and Ah Cum admitted that this girl puzzled him. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. "You had better let me convey her to Dollis Hill," he said. “Do come and cheer me up. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. Sheppard. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. He was helpful, but gravely dubious. . ‘You are related to General Lord Charvill?’ ‘Monsieur le baron, he is my grandpére,’ she confirmed.
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