So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. Sheer calculation on his. Gerald perhaps would know how to find him. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. ’ ‘We had other matters on hand this morning,’ Roding told him sharply.
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