” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall.
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