"You may have altered,
but they'd know me at a glance."
"By all. means, Bunny, if you'll get me the pass."
"A pass? I cried triumphantly. "Of course we should have to get
one, and of course that puts an end to the whole idea. Who on
earth would give a pass for this show, of all. others, to an old
prisoner like me?"
Raffles addressed himself to the reading of the magazine with a
shrug that showed some temper.
"The fellow who wrote this article got one," said he shortly. "He
got it from his editor, and you can get one from yours if you tried.
But pray don't try, Bunny: it would be too terrible for you to risk
a moment's embarrassment to gratify a mere whim of mine. And if I
went instead of you and got spotted, which is so likely with this
head of hair, and the general belief in my demise, the consequences
to you would be too awful to contemplate! Don't contemplate them,
my dear fellow. And do let me read my magazine."
Need I add that I set about the rash endeavor without further
expostulation? I was used to such ebullitions from the altered
Raffles of these later days, and I could well understand them.
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