Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. “Impossible to say,” he answered. She shuddered. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. Surely he was imagining this picture. In Old Palace Yard everybody ran. The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself.
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