He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. ’ ‘Why the devil should you be interested, I should like to know?’ rejoined Roding. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. "That's well," replied Wild, entering the house, and fastening the door. He looked at his friend. He was six blocks away from his home, a ten story building apparently made solely of glass. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. .
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