"I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. ’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one.
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