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"Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. . " "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. It's of no use. Murder, I say, has been done! Another murder will be committed if you don't prevent it. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion.
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