He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. I merely mention these circumstances to show the accuracy of my information. “Your home is very. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. ‘Hates doing the pretty. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key.
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