It was a large room, about twenty feet long and fifteen broad, and had an arched stone roof. “Sheila and Mark McCloskey?” Michelle asked. Between the Jew and the attendant came Jack Sheppard; while a crowd of servants, attracted by the news, that the investigation of a robbery was going forward, lingered at the doorway in hopes of catching something of the proceedings. Looking for something, or someone, probably. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. You represent to me an enigma, the solution of which has become the one desire of my life. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. Nice, of course.
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