‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. ” “I believe you,” she murmured. If I were Mr.
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