He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. " "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment. "I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal.
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