She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. Horrible details recurred to her. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. He seemed to be thinking hard. " "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. It was locked. To—to find myself. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation.
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