“H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. “Before you do anything else I should advise you to secure those charred fragments of paper from the grate. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him.
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