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She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. "I'm a detective; my ears and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. " "Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet. ” “And what are you doing here?” the lady asked.

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