Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. "Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. I know something about men. But now you must be quiet; there's been too much excitement. And Gosse had been still there, so Martha said, and not in prison. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground.
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