With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. Then she called a hansom and drove home. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. " "Doubt me not," replied Thames.
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