Little Warrior by P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse
page 72 of 511 (14%)
page 72 of 511 (14%)
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and lock up! And it ain't but ten-forty-five now."
"I see the difficulty," said Jill's companion thoughtfully. "It's what you might call an _impasse_. French! Well, Casabianca, I'm afraid I don't see how to help you. It's a matter for your own conscience. I don't want to lure you from the burning deck: on the other hand, if you stick on here, you'll most certainly be fried on both sides . . . But, tell me. You spoke about locking up something at eleven-thirty. What are you supposed to lock up?" "Why, the theatre." "Then that's all right. By eleven-thirty there won't be a theatre. If I were you, I should leave quietly and unostentatiously now. Tomorrow, if you wish it, and if they've cooled off sufficiently, you can come and sit on the ruins. Good night!" 2. Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Jill drew her warm cloak closer. Round the corner there was noise and shouting. Fire-engines had arrived. Jill's companion lit a cigarette. "Do you wish to stop and see the conflagration?" he asked. Jill shivered. She was more shaken than she had realized. "I've seen all the conflagration I want." |
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