Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot.
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