Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. Come back with me to-night. I bored him. You do not know him.
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