“Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. "It happened, gentlemen," pursued the Master, "on a particular occasion, about the time I've mentioned, that the Archduke of Alsatia, the Sovereign of the Savoy, and the Satrap of Salisbury Court, met by accident at the Cross Shovels. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. Just as Hogarth got to the door, the turnkey stopped him. 13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room.
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