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Jimmy nodded. "And some of dose knock-out drops. What's dat? Chloryform? Dat's right. An' we didn't do a t'ing else. An' we lived for de rest of de year on dose jools." Spike paused. "Dat was to de good," he said wistfully. Jimmy made no reply. "Dere's a loidy here," continued Spike, addressing the chest of drawers, "dat's got a necklace of jools what's wort' two hundred thousand plunks."
"Nothing, but my peace and happiness." "Are you shore you didn't drap your hank'cher?" "Yes, I am sure I did not, because I wrapped it around some chrysanthemums I gathered as I went away." "Well, a lady's hank'cher was found in Marster's room, and it did smell of chloryform.
"An' it's not even murder," said he, with a shade of disgust in his matter-of-fact voice; "yon's no more than a flesh-wound, and I have my doubts whether it felled him; but, sirs, he just stinks o' chloryform!" He got up and fixed his keen gray eyes upon me; my own were full of tears, but they faced him unashamed. "I understood ye to say ye saw him go out?" said he sternly.
Jone said we'd better tattoo Corinne, for them marks would always be there, but I wouldn't agree to have the little creature's skin stuck with needles, not even after Jone said we might give her chloryform; so we agreed to stamp initials on her with Perkins's Indelible Dab. It is intended to mark sheep, but it don't hurt, and it don't never come off.
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