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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Ah, I'm still in the dark," Verrian politely regretted, but not with a tacit wish to wring Miss Macroyd's neck, which he would not have known how to account for. "Well, she says that Mrs. Westangle has a professional assistant who's doing the whole job for her, and that she came down on the same train with herself and you."
"No, indeed," a girl cried, "it's to be the real thing." It fell to Verrian, in the assortment of couples in which Mrs. Westangle's guests sallied out to view the proposed scene of action, to find himself, not too willingly, at Miss Macroyd's side. In his heart and in his mind he was defending the amusement which he instantly divined as no invention of Mrs.
Here there are no chances of that kind; the chances are that you'll wish the ghost had not been entreated: I think that is the phrase." In the laugh that followed a girl on Miss Macroyd's other hand audibly asked her, "Oh, isn't he too funny?" "Delicious!" Miss Macroyd agreed. Verrian felt she said it to vex him. "Now, there's just one other point," Bushwick resumed, "and then I have done.
At Southfield, where they all descended, Miss Macroyd promptly possessed herself of a groom, who came forward tentatively, touching his hat. "Miss Macroyd?" she suggested. "Yes, miss," the man said, and led the way round the station to the victoria which, when Miss Macroyd's maid had mounted to the place beside her, had no room; for any one else.
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