Sepulchre's clock struck eight. Then he got up and left her. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. He stopped abruptly. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. " "The White Hollyhock would fit her better.
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