Remember what the conjuror said. " "'The thief cometh in the night, and the troop of robbers spoileth without,'" said Wood, who had a text for every emergency. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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