’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. “Ye Gods!” she said at last.
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