Then her fingers moved. She wrote it down. " Sir Rowland's brow darkened. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile.
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