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He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Only a book detective could dope this out. I was extremely subtle—in fact, as devious as Melusine. "I give you joy of the capture, Mr. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth.
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