At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. . "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. Go and prepare for our departure.
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