That was the only sound he heard. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. . Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. Then she burst into a peal of laughter.
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