Here again instinct guided her. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. His jawline was 78 masculine and severe, only tempered by the soft hazy color of his eyes. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. The Pellissiers had been an old family in Hampshire, while his grandfather had driven a van.
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