"Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. If you do not find your aunt, my people will take you under wing until you can stand on your own. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. "I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. It is customary even where an agreement is drawn.
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