“Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. "Have you got Jonathan out of the way?" he asked, in an eager whisper. I should have thought my note cleared up everything. "Anywhere," he said in answer to the manager's query. Stanley’s pace slackened. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. But I am not indisposed to gratify you.
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