Not only that, but he carried himself erect— the slight slouch which had bent his shoulders had altogether disappeared. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. A dressing-room then. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares.
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