” She shivered. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. The fire still burned brightly. Only think how compromising. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. Now do you see his motive?" "I see nothing but your danger," replied his mother, tenderly. At least for one moment, it was.
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