" "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. She spoke slowly. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. Sydney Courtlaw—Mr. Go easy. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger.
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