” Drummond, a few years older, dark, clean-shaven, with bright eyes and humorous mouth, laid down his paper and turned towards Sir John. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times.
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