. Then he stood up and repeated it again. Stanley changed his key. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance. She and I were very close. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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