"As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Keep up the clamour for five minutes, and I'll finish it. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. The boy’s besotted. It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon. The age of this individual could not be more than twenty-one; his figure was tall, robust, and gracefully proportioned; and his clear gray eye and open countenance bespoke a frank, generous, and resolute nature. "Has any one been here?" he asked. There are also the letters which were scattered about Wild's room after the murder of Sir Rowland. I needn't tell you to tread carefully.
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