O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. " "Mine is Howard Spurlock. Manning, abruptly. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared.
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