"She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. It goes to my heart to disappoint you, but this thing must not be. To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated her beauty. Or appeared to do so. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh.
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