“I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. My arm's nearly well again. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition.
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