A town called Foster. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. “There’s the whole situation. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital.
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