"You have betrayed me," said he, in a deep whisper, to his companion; "but you shall reap the reward of your treachery. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my conscience. ‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot.
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