"May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of adressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name. Once more he was the searcher. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. ‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there.
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