"Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. All right, I’m coming. Give me but leave to try. He suspected a trap. "But don't ever let me see them again. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said.
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