The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. "You've arrived sooner than I expected, Sir Rowland," observed the thief-taker. “Our interest lies in heading them off.
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