It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. ” He took them from her and read them. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. Manning’s handwriting had an air of being clear without being easily legible; it was large and rather roundish, with a lack of definition about the letters and a disposition to treat the large ones as liberal-minded people nowadays treat opinions, as all amounting to the same thing really—a yearssmoothed boyish rather than an adult hand.
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