"Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. It would be protective; it would with age turn to silver unnoticeably. . ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. The world, perhaps, will be educated out of its idea of fixed standards.
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