Part 3 For a time they walked in silence through the back streets that lead southward from the College. “Amazing. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired.
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