Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. A creeping numbness invaded her. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. Perhaps I'd better open it now. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door.
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