[Sally Bishop by E. Temple Thurston]@TWC D-Link book
Sally Bishop

CHAPTER IX
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He had the right to a seat at the table.

The rules of the restaurant offered no restrictions.

With it all, he was British.
"Hope you'll excuse my intrusion," he said shortly.
The man, a clerk, with slavery written legibly across his face, offered some mumbled acceptance of the inevitable.

Traill himself would not have borne with any such intrusion.

He would have called the manager--insisted upon having the table to himself; but he intruded his presence with only a momentary consciousness of being in the way.
His manner with waiters was peremptory.


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