He was so seldom wrong. ’ ‘Oh, yes I do,’ Martha said, getting up off the bed. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “Sir John is not at all that sort. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works 1.
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