" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. What happened at Dollis Hill.
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