Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood. "Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. He laughed reassuringly. ’ ‘Ah yes.
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