The note-passer lagged behind with her. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. It was difficult to get right. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. "The sum which incited the villain to the murder," replied Jack.
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