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Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue.
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