He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. ” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. \"483-4492. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. This is a case either of suicide or murder. Cloud back of your hat!" He opened his eyes again.
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