" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. ‘I know just what he was doing. They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. Mr.
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