Brown broke the silence. It 163 invariably leads to trouble. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. There’s no logic in these things. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. "He's dead," exclaimed Austin.
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