‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake. I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow. ” Anna drummed impatiently with her fingers against the arm of her chair. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. " "'The avenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer'," said Wood, who was culling for himself certain texts from the scriptures. ‘Come,’ she called. “It is positively no use, Anna,” she declared, appealingly. "Constance is yet living. He waited. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent.
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