Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. “To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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