Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 62).djvu/296

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"HIS THICK STICK HALF RAISED, HE WAS CROUCHING FOR HIS FINAL SPRING AND BLOW WHEN A COOL, SARDONIC VOICE GREETED HIM FROM THE OPEN BEDROOM DOOR: 'DON'T BREAK IT, COUNT! DON'T BREAK IT!'"
(See page 291.)

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