“There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden earnestness. He did not leave much of an 17 impression. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. " She showed him the locket; and he studied the face. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup.
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