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’ ‘It could hardly be less so,’ said Mrs Sindlesham tartly. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. “Quite right,” she said. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. .
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