“I suppose, Mr. ” “What case?” “A divorce—or something—I don’t know. I saw the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on his head into the road. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed.
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