‘This is a private house,’ Hilary said severely, ‘and you are trespassing. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. It was something that Sebastian had refused to do, a lifestyle that he placed himself above. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. Finding it impossible to descend on any side, without incurring serious risk, Jack resolved to return for his blanket, by the help of which he felt certain of accomplishing a safe landing on the roof of the house in Giltspur Street. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. It may be useful to you. But anything is better than this.
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