Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. ‘What’s wrong, miss? Ain’t I done right?’ Melusine’s mind was reeling, but she reached out and seized his wrist. But tell her this, too. . ‘Help yourself, Hilary.
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