" Upon this he arose, and paced the room hastily backwards and forwards, as if further arranging his plans. The stranger with a bow returned to his table. ” “And you?” Annabel exclaimed. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. ” “Then I am sure,” Sir John declared, “that I shall not ask you. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. “It is true. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. It was Annabel’s. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Like stealing. “I don’t know how to prove myself to you, John. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack.
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