271 His parents suggested that he go into therapy. But she must not laugh. "And, does any of our bright blood flow in the veins of a ruffianly housebreaker?" cried Trenchard, with a look of bewilderment. The inn was a military haunt. Earles answered, glibly. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later.
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