Its very calmness was frightful. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure. “It jars. "You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. He must be gone to dispose of the body. Winifred, you are deceived in me.
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