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She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. B. "On that night,—in this room,—in your presence, Blueskin,— in yours Mr. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible.
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