Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. His light brown hair was almost crew cut short. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. "To be sure he has!" returned Mrs. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin.
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