‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. The pistol fell to the floor. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters.
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