“Dear me!” he said. ‘So it would appear. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. “Since last night. He was asleep. ” “It’s impossible. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man demanded his business.
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