He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. 266 She peered up at him. Wild's. “Are you free tomorrow? Should I call?” He asked. And think things out. 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. “Yes, I remember,” she said. There you will be, in an inner temple. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory.
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