Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. ’ ‘Can you prove it?’ demanded Hilary. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat.
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