He might have supposed the fellow would be eager to be rid of the tale, for that he might have longer to enjoy the amenities of the Triumphal Chariot where the meeting had been appointed. But she felt his lax figure become rigid. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly.
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