Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. I don’t know. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. He parried without apparent effort. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. Get on, do.
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