The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. Take, if you please, your own pistol. "No, I don't. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. She was suddenly grave. ” “I am staying,” she answered coolly, “at a small boarding-house near Russell Square.
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