" The detective ruefully inspected the scarlet band on his perfecto. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. "I cannot climb the boat. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light.
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