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"Well, to cut a long story short, dear old Miss Marguerite," said
Bones, leaning confidentially on the table and talking down into her
upturned lace, "I must find the whereabouts of a certain rascal or
rascals, trading or ly, to the best
of e and belief, as the----" He stopped and frowned "Nohat the dickens was the nae, ostrich, bat, flying fish, sparrow--it's sos you eat?"
"I seldoirl quietly, "but when I do they are the
eggs of the co his head "No, it's--I've got
it--Plover--the Plover Light Car Coet the best et two private detectives, or even three Set them to
work at once, and spare no expense I want to knoho's running the
coate the matter myself, but I'm so fearfully
busy--and where their offices are Tell the detectives," said Bones,
war around the motor-car shops in the West
End They're bound to hear a word dropped here and there, and----"
"I quite understand," said the girl
Bones put out his lean paw and soleirl's hand
"If," he said, with a tremble in his voice, "if there's a typewriter in
London that knows uerite, I'll eat my
head"
On which lines he made his exit