They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. " "You're a philosopher, too. '" As these words were delivered by the carpenter with stern emphasis, a female servant entered the room, and stated that a gentleman was at the door, who wished to speak with Captain Darell on business of urgent importance. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. " "Well, it's mighty fine of you to break your journey in this fashion—for someone you don't know, a passer-by. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. I care not. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it.
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