48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. ” She laughed. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. “Good God!” he exclaimed.
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