A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. Spiders came out of their hiding places to commune in windows, industriously spinning their own designs over the stained glass. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory.
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