She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, pervert?” “Yes sir. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg.
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