He began shoveling dirt over the bodies. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Only a book detective could dope this out. Do you know of what I speak?” “I do, I do!” She said. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable.
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