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” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. "Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. ‘You should rather be arresting the girl and throwing her into gaol for attempted murder. "What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door. Lost me place, that’s all. "I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture.
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