"Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively. “No I’m not, John. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. You’ll never even see me again, for that 268 matter. It is as if my lips had been sealed about them. Can you inform us whence it came?" "I should think so. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. They must be for your father.
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