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176
THE WRONG BOX
the little aperture in the top, 'give me your card-case.'
'What imagi—imagination in a cabby!' cried the lawyer, producing his card-case, and handing it to the driver.
The man read it by the light of the lamp. 'Mr. Michael Finsbury, 233 King's Road, Chelsea. Is that it, sir?'
'Right you are,' cried Michael, 'drive there if you can see way.'
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