Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. “He produced what he called a marriage certificate, and I believe that nearly every one in the boarding-house, including Mrs.
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