Pipes were lighted; and Mr. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. “I got your note just in time,” he remarked. “Morning, Mom. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. Wood, sharply. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had.
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