Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired.
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