’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. Here it is. I'll keep it for your sake.
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