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They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought.

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