“Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. "'Sblood!" cried Jonathan, who had listened to the foregoing conversation with angry wonder, "I've been nicely done here. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. She no longer felt sick or dizzy, her muscles returned to a relaxed, supple state. ‘But for now, I’m taking you home.
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