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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"Miss or Mrs?"


"Another man in the way?"
"Yes."
The giant shook his bald, bestial head dolefully. "Too late. I'm past
the job. Look here."
He held up his hand, and showed it trembling incessantly. "I'm an old
man," he said, and let his hand drop heavily again on the bed beside
him.
Turlington looked at the door, and whispered back,
"The man is as old as you are. And the money is worth having."
"How much?"
"A hundred pounds."
The eyes of Thomas Wildfang fastened greedily on Turlington's face.
"Let's hear," he said. "Softly, captain. Let's hear."
* * * * * * * * *
When the women came back with the clothes, Turlington had left the room.
Their promised reward lay waiting for them on the table, and Thomas
Wildfang was eager to dress himself and be gone. They could get but one
answer from him to every question they put. He had business in hand,
which was not to be delayed. They would see him again in a day or two,
with money in his purse. With that assurance he took his cudgel from
the corner of the room, and stalked out swiftly by the back door of the
house into the night.


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