It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. Hobson, the Phys. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself.
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