Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. "Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. This is a mere boy.
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