Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. I'll knock off at tea. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. ” “Some little tiff?” “No; but I don’t think I shall see them.
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