‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night. "I've known him all my life," replied the other. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. Her steps slowed. Good night.
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