‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. I find it impossible to associate you with—my little friend of the ‘Ambassador’s.
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