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The Detective's Story

Queer, homey little romances come sometimes under the eye of the detective.

 

“One day I was called to a house in Russel Square to carry off a girl who had stolen a small diamond ring and a few other things. 

 

“I shall never forget the bewildered look of the pretty little thing,—for she had a face as innocent as a babe’s. It made my heart ache, when I thought of my own daughter, about the age of this one.

 

“‘O, sir,’ she cried, in terror, ‘they say I have stolen these things, when I never saw them in my life. What does it mean, sir? O, what are they going to do to me?’

 

“Now, in my time, I have seen the pretence of innocence in every form that hypocrisy can shape, and for a time I was not disposed to credit the girl’s distress. But there was another servant there, a sleek-faced, smooth-haired creature, whose caliber I took in at a glance.

 

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