The villain has enjoyed his security too long. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. . And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. ‘Do not beg my pardon. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. And that would spoil it.
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