He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out. I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. Opals. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. He resented being regarded as irregular.
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