One who—who—tres. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. In any event, I explained that no one lived here and that we’d been called in because of suspected intruders. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. If only you could see the people who have been to call on me! Sir John has the most absurd ideas, too.
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