By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls.
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