She is in Wild's power. ‘But then again, possibly not. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Except he was the only idiot who would stay. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light.
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