The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol.
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