We've both got jobs we can hold down, and now you're in these pretty clothes you're the dead ringer of the brightest kind of American engineer ...
But we can't go back on our tracks.

If we wanted to leave for Constanza next week they'd be very polite, but they'd never let us.
We've got to go on with this adventure and nose our way down into Mesopotamia, hoping that our luck will hold ...

God knows how we will get out of it; but it's no good going out to meet trouble.

As I observed before, I believe in an all-wise and beneficent Providence, but you've got to give him a chance.' I am bound to confess the prospect staggered me.

We might be let in for fighting--and worse than fighting--against our own side.