The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. Everything was blurred. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Women who Dids, and all that kind of thing. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned.
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