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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Voice in the Fog"

A cluster of lights made the spot
as bright as day.
Thomas bowed politely and Lord Monckton smiled amiably.
"Mr. Killigrew is in the smoking-room?" Thomas inquired.
"Yes."
Thomas bowed again, indirectly toward the guests and walked away. Lord
Monckton commented on the beauty of the night.
And Kitty caught the gasp between her teeth, lest it should be heard.
Fog!


CHAPTER XIX
"Rather hot for this time of day," volunteered Lord Monckton, sliding
into the Morris chair at the side of Thomas' desk and dangling his legs
over the arm.
"Yes, it is," agreed Thomas, folding a sheet of paper and placing the
little ivory elephant paper-weight upon it.
"Rippin' doubles this morning. You ought to go into the game. Do you
a lot of good."
"I didn't know you played."
"Don't. Watch."
Thomas' gaze was level and steady.
Lord Monckton laughed easily and sought his monocle. He fumbled about
the front of his coat and shirt. "By jove! Lost my glass; wonder I
can see anything."
Outside, on the veranda, the two men could see the cluster of women of
which Kitty was the most animated flower.


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