The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief. “John, that is what you say now. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. I’ve got imagination. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it.
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