Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. Anna was unimpressed. The car ride to the new movie theater, a multiplex, was brief and harrowing. He looked at her guiltily.
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