“I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. Gwen made an inquiry, and, directed by Mrs. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am.
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