‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. ’ ‘Don’t you dare. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move.
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