"A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. The Jew did not speak, but pointed to the audience-chamber. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar. I cannot have my wife distressed or worried. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed.
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