" "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything. " "Till midnight," replied Jack. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. He has got five minutes' start of you.
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