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He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. “Very likely. "Damnation!" cried Kneebone. In the flagged entrance hallway at the bottom, where extra light came in from a window above the double doors, it was easy enough to distinguish a family group, and a landscape which clearly included Remenham House in the distance. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street.
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