" "Bring your story to an end, Sir," said Trenchard who had listened to the recital with mingled emotions of rage and fear. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. “I am going,” he said, “to be impertinent. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages.
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