“I SAY!” said Mr. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. Jack tried it, and found it locked. It is not for myself I fear. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. " "And a famoush goot shignal it ish," laughed Abraham.
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