Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. Why?" "I was just wondering. “I murdered them, John. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. Heaven forbid. ” “No. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said.
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