Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It was the grand nursery of vice. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. ” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. . "Show me your warrant!" said Wood, almost driven to his wit's-end; "perhaps it isn't regular?" "Ask him who he is?" suggested Thames.
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