The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. I had two slices. ’ At last. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. CHAPTER XII. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. No window.
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