Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. I overheard them planning your assassination. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. \"Thanks for walking me home. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water.
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