Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. “I’m being honest with you. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him.
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