I thought that he was dead. Now tell them why. " "I'll have no explanations whatever," replied the carpenter, disdainfully, "except before a magistrate. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. A maidservant held the front door open. This whole affair is truly my fault.
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