He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. “It’s a way of avoiding explanations. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. .
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