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He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. ‘Do not tell me he has escaped. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. He was detained. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest.
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