‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. “Think of that check you endorsed. “I murdered them, John. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter.
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