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only ones he had; old grey flannel trousers, and a patched and rather threadbare baggy jacket. He looked the stage Bohemian to the life and proud of it.
His brother Harold, on the contrary, was the perfect picture of a City gentleman and a director of important companies. He was tall with a neat erect carriage, had dark hair going slightly bald on the temples, a small black moustache, and was impeccably dressed in a dark well-cut suit and a pearl-grey tie. He looked what he was, a shrewd and successful business man.
He now said stiffly:
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"Really, Cedric, that seems a most uncalled for remark."
"Don't see why? She was in our barn after all. What did she come there for?"
Mr. Wimborne coughed, and said:
"Possibly some - er – assignation. I understand that it was a matter of local knowledge that the key was kept outside on a nail."
His tone indicated outrage at the carelessness of such procedure. So clearly marked was this that Emma spoke apologetically.
"It started during the war. For the A.R.P. wardens. There was a little spirit stove and they made themselves hot cocoa
Sunday, December 23, 2007
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