He declined to come in. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. But how could you get—Who gave you credit? “You see,” said Ann Veronica, “my landlady kept on my room while I was in Holloway, and the fees for the College mounted up pretty considerably. Kneebone's visit, Mrs. ‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery.
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