This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. See, it is on my cards—M. It's certain. ’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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