Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. She turned out the electric light and gained the hall. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily.
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