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The Club of Queer Trades

which the baronet, even in his hampered state, seemed to make some effort to retain.

It was a large, loose piece of white wrapping-paper, which Mr. Jasper Drummond read with a vacant eye and undisguised astonishment. As far as he could make out, it consisted of a series of questions and answers, or, at least, of remarks and replies, arranged in the manner of a catechism. The greater part of the document had been torn and obliterated in the struggle, but the termination remained. It ran as follows:

"C. Says——Keep countenance.

"W. Keep——British Museum.

"C. Know whom talk——absurdities.

"W. Never talk absurdities without——"

"What is it?" cried Drummond, flinging the paper down in a sort of final fury.

"What is it?" replied Grant, his voice rising into a kind of splendid chant. "What is it? It is a great new profession. A great new trade. A trifle immoral, I admit, but still great, like piracy."

"A new profession!" said the young man

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