He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. It was as if he could smell it on her. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. There was nothing to be got out of the man. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors.
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