There's the paragraph. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. . He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. The name of his father's murderer is also known to me. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him.
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