" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently.
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