That register would be easy to get at; comforting thought. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. She was supposed to be lifeless; but she survived the accident, though she never regained her strength. ” The detective nodded. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain.
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