” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. "Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant. “Stop,” he said. We're told, that 'Whoso is partner with a thief hateth his own soul.
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