He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. His tone was kind and sympathetic.
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