She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. The Supper at Mr. McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. His voice now had lost its ironies. She wanted to think. It dropped sideways and fell with a bang to the table.
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