"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. " Jack was about to comply with the request, when an unlooked-for interruption occurred. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night.
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