She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. He stopped before her suddenly. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. He arrived at 6:29 sharp on the night of the Junior Prom. Spurling, who sat on the right of the table.
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