The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. ” “I will buy books and a lay figure,” he declared, “to practise upon. ’ Gerald raised his brows. There's the paragraph. We never supposed you helped yourself to a picture set with diamonds—not we!" "Is the guv'ner consarned in this job?" asked Terence, in a whisper. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too.
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