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’ ‘Woof!’ Sergeant Trodger’s eyes fairly popped out of his head, and he seized his prisoner’s arm again. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. “And this is Mr. The boy’s besotted. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. I would have heard her.
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