” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. I guess we could go for a ride. . ’ The crack in the iron front widened a little, and the general was obliged to clamp his jaws tight against the rise of a pain too well remembered. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. "The long and the short o' the matter's this then," returned Sharples with dignity, "the Markis begs your acceptance o' ten guineas to drink his health.
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