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"Bill is too young to understand when he is—is being bereaved, Molly," he said, and still he didn't look at me. "I have been appointed a delegate to attend the Centennial Congress in Paris the middle of next month—and somehow I—feel a bit run down lately and I thought I would take the little chap and—have—have a Wanderjahr. You won't need him now, Mrs. Molly, and I couldn't go without him, could I?" The sadness in his voice would have killed me if I hadn't let it madden me instead. "Really! I hope you will succeed. But a case like this requires a trained intelligence such as you will find in a detective. Of course you may command my services, major, but I am afraid you will not succeed." CHAPTER XIII RESTITUTION.
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Conrad
"How came this here?" he asked the housemaid, pointing to the scrap of linen. Judith put the key in its lock, turned it easily and then swung the door wide, but before the others could catch even a glimpse of the interior, she gave a little squeaking cry and rushed in, leaving the door to bang after her. She and Aunt Bettie had just come up the street from Aunt Bettie's house, and the Pollard cook was following them with a large basket, in which were packed things Aunt Bettie was contributing towards the entertainment of the distinguished citizen. Mr. Johnson is Alfred's nearest kinsman in Hillsboro, and, of course, he is to be their guest while he is in town. "Dat nuffin!" said Dido, with a lordly wave of her hand. "I black; you hab de black blood in youse also. I mek you do Obi. Um!".
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