“I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. "My mother is avenged. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. He nodded silently, too full for words. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that.
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