Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. "Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Hollander, shaking his head in reply;—"very bad —very. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. She was naturally weaker, she would tire quicker, and she need not concern herself with the peculiar obligations of honour obtaining amongst gentlemen. "I'm a detective; my ears and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you.
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