"Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. My heart fails me. ” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood.
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