Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. He glanced up at the coachman. "Nothin'—nothin'," returned Blueskin; "only I thought—" "You saw the hangman, no doubt," said Jack. She wanted to be alone. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. ’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. .
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