’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "How has he unfastened his padlock? Austin, it must be owing to your negligence. How can you protect me? Moreover, it is stealing that you have done, and therefore—’ ‘Don’t tell me you expect me to arrest myself again. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield.
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