The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. What! mum still. He looked half at her and half at the sky. ‘Certainly you are imbecile.
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