‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. I am sorry to seem to disobey you, but I am. Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no time as yet for hostile movements. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do.
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