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She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Rushing towards the entrance of the well-hole, Blueskin touched the secret spring. "I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thieftaker blackened in the face. ‘Ah. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
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