" "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. "Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. “Alice—Alice gone dotty, and all over kids. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. .
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