” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, “yes,” to his explanation, and saw across the lawn Lady Palsworthy talking to her aunt, and both of them staring frankly across at her and Mr. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. Bring me food, a man, hurry!” She placed the stone back over the crypt to hide the evidence of what she had uncovered.
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