’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins.
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