" He laughed and pushed back his chair. " "There's no hurry. This is a plot entirely abominable, and I scorn to be part of it. But this was long ago. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off.
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