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Updated: May 26, 2025
"They've got the key on that side," said the policeman, while Mr. Filer discharged at the door a volley of sharp knocks, at the same time violently shaking the handle. "If the door was locked, what was the good of your standing before it?" Ransom inquired. "So as you couldn't do that"; and the policeman nodded at Mr. Filer. "You see your interference has done very little good."
What Morgan said at last was said suddenly, irrelevantly, when the moment came, in the middle of a lesson, and consisted of the apparently unfeeling words: "You ought to filer, you know you really ought." Pemberton stared. He had learnt enough French slang from Morgan to know that to filer meant to cut sticks. "Ah my dear fellow, don't turn me off!"
He knew them, Cute did. I believe you! 'But who eats tripe? said Mr. Filer, looking round. 'Tripe is without an exception the least economical, and the most wasteful article of consumption that the markets of this country can by possibility produce.
While this is going on, Filer must be held up and the original taken from him and destroyed. "Then when we get the copy away from Hooker and destroy Filer's original, we can throw our cards on the table and laugh at 'em. Come right out and say, 'Yes, we schemed to beat you, and we've done it. What're you going to do about it? You've got the tattooed part, we've got the only copy of the other part.
Drummond cried exultantly, pointing to the burned paper. "There's what's left of the copy he was making. And here's his gun he used it to weigh down the copy when he raced away after the whirlwind. Run for the horses. We'll get after him and get the original away from him, if he gets it. Then, if Hank gets Filer which he certainly will we'll have the only copies in existence!"
Of course Helen could not refuse him; there must be many thoughts coming into his mind which he would wish to share with her who had known his daughter so long and been with filer in her last days. She returned into the great parlor with the wrought cornices and the medallion-portraits on the ceiling. "I am now alone in the world," Dudley Veneer said. Helen must have known that before he spoke.
I only want to speak to Mr. Ransom." "Who the devil is Mr. Ransom?" cried the exasperated, bewildered Filer. Verena spoke to the others, but she looked at her lover, and the expression of her eyes was ineffably touching and beseeching.
"Why for an hour, when it's all false and damnable? An hour is as bad as ten years! She's mine or she isn't, and if she's mine, she's all mine!" "Yours! Yours! Verena, think, think what you're doing!" Olive moaned, bending over her. Mr. Filer was now pouring forth his nature in objurgations and oaths, and brandishing before the culprits Verena and Ransom the extreme penalty of the law. Mrs.
The gentleman, not otherwise hard-hearted or indifferent to such scenes, than that he saw them every day, and knew that they were figures of no moment in the Filer sums mere scratches in the working of these calculations laid his hand upon the heart that beat no more, and listened for the breath, and said, 'His pain is over. It's better as it is! Mrs. Tugby tried to comfort her with kindness. Mr.
Filer clearly showing that in that case he would rob a certain given number of persons of ninepence-halfpenny a-piece, he only got sixpence; and thought himself very well off to get that. Then the Alderman gave an arm to each of his friends, and walked off in high feather; but, he immediately came hurrying back alone, as if he had forgotten something. 'Porter! said the Alderman.
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