She made no answer, and for a time he debated some problems with himself. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. . "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable.
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