" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. She confided in me yesterday. He'd never forgive you. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. You yourself supplied the details. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. " "Six weeks have elapsed since that fatal night," replied Jack. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants.
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