” 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. It’s gone. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. " "Queer birds. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. ” “Better say six,” Mr. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful. The tension was palpable. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself.
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