His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. " "There you are, just as I said. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. Her whole face stiffened with suppressed anger. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified.
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