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A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. ‘I’m following a scent.
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