Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. The clock struck half-past ten. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. “That is very nice of you,” she said. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist.
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