He reached for her chin and lifted it up. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Wood turned to look at him. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said.
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