Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr. ’ She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. ’ It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the short distance to Stratton Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and entered a pleasant woodpanelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow.
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