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He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised
and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his hand in a
wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to say something,
then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried out:
"Read it! read it! What is it?"
So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:
"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You are far
from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and
reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This one," said the
Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson."
"
There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well
my note was purloined."
"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you nor
any man of your kidney must venture to--"
The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you,
please."
They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house was
profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious
emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He
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