” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. Straw and other combustibles being collected, were placed in the middle of the audiencechamber. Grudgingly he admired her. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. She is no longer mine; she is yours. They were inscribed with the name RIMBAUER, EMILIO J. Murder, I say, has been done! Another murder will be committed if you don't prevent it. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded.
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