’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. Wood, who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion.
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