Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. ” “If it were all true,” he said doggedly, “it may still be possible. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. . . Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in.
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