Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. He smiled. . She cried and sobbed in fits. “No, no,” she cried. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. I know less about this affair perhaps than you suppose.
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