" "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. "I must tell you," she was saying. " "Hum!" exclaimed Jonathan. It would be too mortifying. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. ‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. ‘She’s terrified. ‘I know just what he was doing. ” She paused. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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