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This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. “Don’t think so,” Drummond answered. Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. What about them?” He called a hansom. “We’re going to be sensible. Montague Hill. She took hand cannon and began to arm it. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said.
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