Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. Spurlock advanced, the censer swung high. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up.
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