Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope. Sorry to be so nosy. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read the agreement through to her. "Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. What do you know about her, Fred? I am interested. ‘And so?’ she asked. You will be—my wife.
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