The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. . " "Where—where?" cried Thames. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. I told him that I was not ‘Alcide. And so Misther Wudd lives near the Black Lion, eh?" "He does," replied Thames. “I am sorry that I have murdered you.
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