" "Then, I'm quite easy," cried Winifred, joyfully. You have taken even my knife. I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. Some one was standing beside him. “Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. " O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal.
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