F. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. 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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