Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. “I cannot keep silence any longer. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me.
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