" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards.
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