He knew me, Nigel. ‘Very well,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She will die if she knows I have a gun.
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