Don’t try. You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. Upon which Mrs. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. My mother really wants to meet you.
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