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Updated: June 20, 2025
"That's just what I do think of murder's no joke, though it's more of a fine art than it was when De Quincey wrote. I'm perfectly serious. I would shoot the scoundrel Boone. Why, do you know the man has cleared a million dollars on rotten blankets since he came here? McClellan ordered a report made out showing his rascalities a few weeks ago.
"Murder!" answered the detective. "That's one charge, anyhow for one of 'em, at any rate. There's others." "Murder's enough," responded the skipper. "Well, of course, nobody can tell a man to be a murderer by merely looking at his mug. Not at all! nobody! However, this here is how it is. Last night it were evening, to be c'rect dark. I was on the edge o' the fleet, out there off the Dogger.
A frantic woman ran in with a scream, and said: "Is this the station-house?" "Why, bless the woman, can't you see it is?" he says. "What's the matter now?" "Murder's the matter!" she burst out. "For God's sake, come back with me. It's at Mrs. Crosscapel's lodging-house, number 14 Lehigh Street. A young woman has murdered her husband in the night! With a knife, sir.
Thinking that he understood these things, Margaret obeyed him. They laid Leonard, who was dead, on the gravel; Helen poured water over him. "That's enough," said Charles. "Yes, murder's enough," said Miss Avery, coming out of the house with the sword. When Charles left Ducie Street he had caught the first train home, but had no inkling of the newest development until late at night.
All of this took only an instant, for it appeared but the end of a desperate encounter which had been raging elsewhere. The time, however, was long enough for me to see that those of the larger party wore the white sash and cross which distinguished my assailants in Rouen. "God in heaven, what murder's work have we at Cartillon?" I cried aloud in my misery.
"Yes; the murder's out." He gave it to her, and walked away among the roses. Presently, seeing that she had finished reading and was standing quite still with the sheets of the letter against her skirt, he came back to her. "Well?" "It's wonderfully put. I don't see how it could be put better. Thank you, dear." "Is there anything you would like left out?" She shook her head.
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