” He nodded twice, with his eyes on the fire, as though that was a formal statement. ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Sir John hesitated. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position.
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