“I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. CHAPTER XVII. There’s something— something ADULT about you. None this end.
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