. \"Oh my word, Mike. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. I hold a warrant from Mr. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. And I’d do it again for you if needs be. As he was about to descend his chains slightly rattled. " "Ah, yes; that's all very well.
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