As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. “We are clerks in the same bank. You are French?" "No. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the floor.
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