The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. “Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. Made me fetch up Trodger and a couple more men, and together we searched his luggage and got hold of every single paper the man possessed. Save my seat. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room.
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