82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. “I cannot say more. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. "My friends, Mr. We’ll leave him here, with a couple of others. She reached for the door handle. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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