‘What is this proof?’ ‘I will not tell you. But I was portentous, I can assure you. ” For a moment or two he did not speak. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. “I shot him. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. ” He said. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. He hated himself a little for it.
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