‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Then the inner door opened abruptly. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly.
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