’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. I am with you through thick and thin, Nigel. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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