She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. She hurried with Jack as fast as she could to the open door to the passage. “It’s odd—I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is wrong,” he said. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. With the aid of a penknife he ripped the shoulder seams and drew out the ten one-thousand dollar bills. When the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for a moment lost in reflection.
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