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Marriage Because Your Shitty Day Doesn't Have To End At Work: Snarky Love Novelty Notebook Gift: A Funny Sexy Valentine's Day Journal: Unique Diary that makes a perfect Valentine's Day gift for men or women. It's 6X9 with 100 pages to write in.
Marriage Because Your Shitty Day Doesn't Have To End At Work: Snarky Love Novelty Notebook Gift: A Funny Sexy Valentine's Day Journal: Unique Diary that makes a perfect Valentine's Day gift for men or women. It's 6X9 with 100 pages to write in.
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"Mr. Venner, sir?"
"Mr. Venner-yes, certainly. You will find him in his private office-that way, sir. The door to the right. Venner is in his private office, Joseph, is he not?"
"I don't think so, Mr. Garside, unless he has just returned. I saw him go out some time ago."
"Is that so? Wait a moment, young man."
The young man halted, and then turned back to face Mr. Garside, with an inquiring look in his frank, brown eyes.
"Not here, sir, do I understand?" he asked, politely.
Mr. Garside shook his head. He was a tall, slender man of forty, and was the junior partner of the firm of Rufus Venner & Co., a large retail jewelry house in New York City, with a handsome store on Fifth Avenue, not far from Madison Square.
It was in their store that this introductory scene occurred, and proved to be the initiatory step of one of the shrewdest and most cleverly executed robberies on record.
It was about eleven o'clock one April morning. The sun was shining brightly outside, and at the curbing in front of the store were several handsome private carriages, with stiff-backed, motionless coachmen, in bottle-green livery, perched on their boxes, all of which plainly indicated the very desirable patronage accorded the firm mentioned.
"Mr. Venner-yes, certainly. You will find him in his private office-that way, sir. The door to the right. Venner is in his private office, Joseph, is he not?"
"I don't think so, Mr. Garside, unless he has just returned. I saw him go out some time ago."
"Is that so? Wait a moment, young man."
The young man halted, and then turned back to face Mr. Garside, with an inquiring look in his frank, brown eyes.
"Not here, sir, do I understand?" he asked, politely.
Mr. Garside shook his head. He was a tall, slender man of forty, and was the junior partner of the firm of Rufus Venner & Co., a large retail jewelry house in New York City, with a handsome store on Fifth Avenue, not far from Madison Square.
It was in their store that this introductory scene occurred, and proved to be the initiatory step of one of the shrewdest and most cleverly executed robberies on record.
It was about eleven o'clock one April morning. The sun was shining brightly outside, and at the curbing in front of the store were several handsome private carriages, with stiff-backed, motionless coachmen, in bottle-green livery, perched on their boxes, all of which plainly indicated the very desirable patronage accorded the firm mentioned.
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