" "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no time as yet for hostile movements. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. " "Be silent, and conceal yourself.
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