The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. But me, I am going to England. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. I’ve had my time and lost my chances. We were going at a mad pace.
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