Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table.
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