He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. ’ Gerald tutted. You must let me do whatever I can for you. I was being stupid. There are unwritten laws governing human conduct. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same.
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