‘You mean there isn’t any evidence of a break-in. ” “I forgive you willingly,” Anna said, bending over him. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. "Holloa—what's that?" cried Austin, starting up. " As this was said, Jack turned with the swiftness of thought, and shortening his sword, prepared to plunge it into the thief-taker's heart. CHAPTER XVI.
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