‘Here she is. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. Sir John saw it, and was flattered. Spurlock has gone. “You are late,” she murmured. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. It doesn’t seem to matter. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling.
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