He turned. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. The Jew swallowed it at a draught. It was a different world. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. " "Your ladyship——" hesitated Norris.
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