Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. Jackson took an accurate survey of the room with his one eye, Mr. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled.
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