As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. She thrashed and screamed as he wrestled her back towards the bed. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated.
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