The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. “I am sure that you are. He seemed to be thinking hard. "Who took it thence?" "Thames Darrell; the boy at your side. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door.
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