His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. Here it is.
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