"Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room.
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