—'They have,' says he. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Wood from pressing his suit long ago. ’ With difficulty, Gerald bit back a laugh. "I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal.
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