The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. Only a book detective could dope this out. “You will have to eat soon,” he said cryptically. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. She stabbed him with her canines. Let me put the main question to you now that I could not put the other afternoon. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. “It’s THE Society!” said Miss Miniver. ’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books.
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