“Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Mrs Sindlesham occupied a large padded armchair to one side of a corner fireplace, which gave out a heat more than adequate for September to one of the major’s robust constitution. Danger, the most terrible she had ever faced, was substantially in this room. Very well. “Will they worry about you getting caught in a storm?” She asked him as she viewed black clouds floating in different directions. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. “I’ve been following you for many years. Cloud back of your hat!" He opened his eyes again. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room.
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