” The dinner was admirable as a dinner; nothing went wrong, from the golden and excellent clear soup to the delightful iced marrons and cream; and Miss Stanley’s praises died away to an appreciative acquiescence. Kneebone, on his return from Manchester. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. He seemed to have expected them. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. “I wonder if there is!” said Capes, and paused, and then bent down over the boy who wore his hair like Russell. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases.
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