‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand.
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