After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. ’ He opened the purse and extracted a couple of guineas. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. ’ She gave him a straight look.
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