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Loge had disappeared and said, with a gentle shake of his head at Cleggett, as if he were chiding a naughty child:
"When thieves fall out—! When thieves fall out, my dear sir!"
As he swept by he resumed his magazine with the pleased air of a man who has delivered himself of a brilliant epigram; it showed in his very shoulders.
"And that," murmured Cleggett, "is Wilton Barnstable, the great detective!"
