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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"


"They must have their spy somewhere," said Mr. Bruff, looking at the
dark sailor in his turn. "And he may be the man."
Before he could say more, his coat-tail was respectfully pulled by his
attendant sprite with the gooseberry eyes. Mr. Bruff looked where the
boy was looking. "Hush!" he said. "Here is Mr. Luker!"
The money-lender came out from the inner regions of the bank, followed
by his two guardian policemen in plain clothes.
"Keep your eye on him," whispered Mr. Bruff. "If he passes the Diamond
to anybody, he will pass it here."
Without noticing either of us, Mr. Luker slowly made his way to the
door--now in the thickest, now in the thinnest part of the crowd.
I distinctly saw his hand move, as he passed a short, stout man,
respectably dressed in a suit of sober grey. The man started a little,
and looked after him. Mr. Luker moved on slowly through the crowd. At
the door his guard placed themselves on either side of him. They were
all three followed by one of Mr. Bruff's men--and I saw them no more.
I looked round at the lawyer, and then looked significantly towards the
man in the suit of sober grey. "Yes!" whispered Mr.


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