He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly.
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