Once in, the constable's manner appeared totally changed. They were only passers-by. The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. Leave the means to me. Let him be sure.
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