A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. I need hardly say that your aunt joins with me very heartily in this request.
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