\" His tone was weak and conciliatory. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. . ‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. The latter seemed inclined to advance and address the former; but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his companion in tones familiar to the stranger's ear; and, striking spurs into his steed, dashed off at full speed along the Edgeware Road.
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