Three cars were lined up in the driveway. Wood turned to look at him. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ” “Won’t you postpone the attempt, then?” he said gallantly, “until I have done something to deserve your gratitude? You will not forget—seven-thirty, Café Maston, Boulevard des Italiennes. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed.
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