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. ’ ‘Woof!’ Sergeant Trodger’s eyes fairly popped out of his head, and he seized his prisoner’s arm again. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. ‘But you said she was looking for proof.
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