“I cut off his right hand pinky with his own rusty bolt cutter. . Retracing his steps, he arrived, without further accident, at the eastern platform of the starling. As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. . “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all.
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