"My father used to spend quite a lot of time in those parts, and painted at least a dozen pictures down there." "This is a coincidence," Reginald Kinsley declared, lighting a cigarette.

"I think, if I were you, Dick, I'd go down and claim my property." "Tired of me already ?" Hamel asked, smiling.
Reginald Kinsley knocked the ash from his cigarette.
"It isn't that.

The fact is, that job I was speaking to you about was simply this.

We want some one to go down to Salthouse--not exactly as a spy, you know, but some one who has his wits about him.

We are all of us very curious about this man Fentolin.