” “But Hainault—was—a pal. Wood could stand it no longer. I've despatched him to the New Prison. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. "I shall breathe more freely dere. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again. Neither of them believed me.
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