. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. I shouldn't talk like that. Take, if you please, your own pistol.
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