"While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. I did it in self-defence.
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