I'll try and keep things quiet for you.
If it comes out, well, you know the risk you run." "I know the bigger risk we are all running," Wyatt declared, as he took a cigarette from an open box on the table by his side and turned towards the door.

"I'll manage the turtle soup now, with luck.

You're a good fellow, Hebblethwaite.

I know it goes against the grain with you, but, by Jove, you may be thankful for this some time!" The Right Honourable John William Hebblethwaite took the hat from his footman, stepped into his car, and was driven rapidly away.

He leaned back among the cushions, more thoughtful than usual.