"A storm!" exclaimed the landlord. “You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can.
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