Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. "To the best of my belief, Thames Darrell has been murdered by you. ” “Why?” Mr. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. I was raised in the Church. I'm crazy over music, too.
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