" "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. No man knew whence she had come nor why. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. It was a dead calm. John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. ” Thank Heaven! Mr. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. It was intolerable to think that he might overhear words and phrases. .
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