"I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. I wouldn’t recommend doing anything. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. “This is a very foolish sort of entertainment. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. ’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. "His wife is still living," returned Kneebone, drily.
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