‘Very well, Kimble. CHAPTER XXIII. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. “Come right in,” he hissed under his breath, with the true conspirator’s note, closed the door very softly and pointed, “Through there!” By the meagre light of a gas lamp she perceived a cobbled yard with four large furniture vans standing with horses and lamps alight.
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