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Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. “You too sing?” he asked. I was—I was a corespondent. He turned back at once. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. If we fail,” said Capes, “then—” “We aren’t going to fail,” said Ann Veronica. Stanley determined to improve the occasion.
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