For a time she promenaded the room. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. " "I hadn't thought of that.
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