” “I cannot do it!” he cried hoarsely. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. "Once for all, I shall go.
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