" CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. ’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. " "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. "I forbid you to do that. You couldn’t help it. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. She would just walk out of the house and go. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck.
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