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"I have been all over the world, Mr. Alymer," parried Etwald, dexterously. "What kind of a perfume?" "But with regard to Maurice?".
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Conrad
Major Jen sprang to his feet with a loud cry. This information that Battersea was the criminal took him so utterly by surprise that for the moment he was tongue-tied. Then, when he recalled the feeble and emaciated form of the old tramp, when he recollected his weak intelligence, he altogether declined to believe that such a creature, one so wanting in activity, could have conceived and executed a triple crime--the theft of the devil-stick, the murder of Maurice, the stealing of the body. Battersea had not sufficient craft or strength to do such things. With a shrug of his shoulders the major resumed his seat. "You are looking at that thing, Maurice?" said he, wonderingly. "Now that is strange." That dinner was going like an airship on a high wind, when something happened to tangle its tail feathers, and I can hardly write it for trembling yet. It was a simple little telegram, but it might have been nitro-glycerine on a tear for the way it acted. It was for me, but the nephew handed it to Tom, and he opened it and, looking at me, he solemnly read it out loud. It said— "I am sure of it, and what's more," added Jen, nodding, "it is my opinion that he knows who killed Maurice, if indeed he did not do it himself.".
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