She wanted to be alone. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. "What's that you're saying about Jack Sheppard?" she cried. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces.
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