Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. "I'll gibbet the rascal. Your servant, Mr. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together.
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