Caliban absolutely crowed with delight. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Chairs were overturned. She ran away from you; and now I can easily understand why. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief.
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