‘It is all the fault of that lantern. “Yes, I know. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me.
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