There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. I have found you. “I’ve gotta go. F. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions.
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