“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. She let them fall and sped to the companion, where she stood for a moment, the moonlight giving her a celestial touch. You are my prisoner, murderer.
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