"Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. “You see the pointer?” he asked.
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