He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. “Come right in,” he hissed under his breath, with the true conspirator’s note, closed the door very softly and pointed, “Through there!” By the meagre light of a gas lamp she perceived a cobbled yard with four large furniture vans standing with horses and lamps alight. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand.
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