The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. ‘Keep still, for God’s sake! Hilary will send him off all right and tight, never fear.
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