They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. “This ain’t no place for you. It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. See paragraph 1. At least I rather hoped I might spend my time chasing smugglers, which would have afforded some excitement. And I want you for myself—for my wife. I heard from David about you only this morning. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think.
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