Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. He died in the war. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. \" She was surprised that he had noticed her existence as early as her arrival at the Beck house. He went on.
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