“Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired. ’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. The chain, which had been partially cut through, snapped near the staple. Ramage. Charley Pevenill was our host.
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