"Mr. It’s my choice, Lucy. ” And to that, through vast rhetorical meanderings, she clung. Arrived at the extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat-roof of a house which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of about twenty feet below. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. I'll be quiet. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering.
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