“Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. “Don’t bunch too much as you come out,” she added. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes.
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