"What are you two mumbling about?" demanded David, shouldering his way through the assembly at the station door. "No fair talking secrets today. I've got to be in everything that's going on. 'Fess up now, Judy, you were complaining that Tommy's nose was too long for the hero of your next novel, weren't you?",
"And I also. Both my boys are dead, one by the hand of the other, and that other by his own hand. It is you and your daughter and Dido who have brought about these things. Go to Barbadoes, Mrs. Dallas, by all means. You and yours have done quite sufficient mischief in England.",
"There is my explanation," said he, coolly..
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