“Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. She looked around the apartment for other people. " "We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building.
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