The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. "Kingfisher feathers," said Ah Cum. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. "I'd forgotten. But the survey was satisfactory, and she found herself presently in Room No.
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