He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. '—'What is it, Mint?' asked all three.
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