He took Diane out. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. "I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thieftaker blackened in the face. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact.
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