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A BITTER smile crossed Crafton's face. He looked straight into the eyes of his accuser, and the shrug of his shoulders was suggestive of surrender to superior force.
"Ah, a neat little plot," he sneered. "The price of Mr. John Heron's liberty. Also the saving of much trouble in connecting Douglas Hume and Selby Crafton. Sir Policeman, my very best congratulations. I little thought when we met, that dramatic night in Mansfield street, that I was face to face with one of the shining lights of the Scotland Yard division."