CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. Besides, he was a Yale man. " "If I disobey you, Sir Rowland," replied the thief-taker, "you'll thank me for it hereafter.
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