Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. He saw that she was tense. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. She entered the last room, his bedroom. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. Forgive me.
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