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“My arrival appears to be opportune,” he said stiffly. (“Good job. I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. And I have made such arrangements that at my decease tardy justice will be done my injured nephew. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. It’s just that I want to say.
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