“Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Love and companionship. It is like some accident. The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times. In the morning and at night he is dressed as he would dress in the big hotels. ’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor.
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