" "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. Aware of Quilt Arnold's mode of proceeding, Jack instantly dismounted, and, instead of knocking, opened the door with the pass-key. His manner was deferential, even eager. Her shoulders began to ache. I’ve got to stay at home and remain in a state of suspended animation. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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