I think you will find that his story will be believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on here, I shall have to go away. Mr. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. And with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she.
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