She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ‘Bateson & Co. ‘Poor things. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker. CHAPTER XII.
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