Inquiring for Mrs. An electric light flashed out from the wall. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. He laughed lightly. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone.
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